Paul's weekly column (3)


Oh, hi! Didn’t see you there! This is the third official (oooh fancy) instalment of Paul Knows Nothing About Liverpool – the only release of Anfield Edition which doesn’t get tweeted from our official Twitter account.

Oh, the things we do to avoid lawsuits…

This week in Liverpool football club’s life has been marked by pain, expensive tickets, fucking West Ham and Jamie Vardy turning into Jamie Vardy but from two months ago.

Let’s begin the weekly therapy by revisiting the worst experiences in your life that turned you into a wreck you are today. Take a seat, darling. To properly see what’s hurting you inside we need to discover the darkest parts of your soul so we can gaze at the pain destroying you and your hopes. Annihilating the last of your dreams to live.

Naturally, we’ll have to go to West Ham.

That’s where two dozen muscular men didn’t make me feel any pleasure at all despite me trying to be really into it for the whole 90 minutes.

Even the captain Joe Allen didn’t do the magic we so hyped for him to do. Maybe the Jesus photoshops weren’t as helpful as I totally imagined them to be. Maybe he didn’t wear his lucky sailor suit underneath. Maybe the special underwear was in the washing…And his lucky locket was in them! And now it’s spinning 800 times a minute as Joe’s trying to control our midfield full of ferocious 18-year-olds…Without the talisman that made him the man he is today!

Ah, the horror!


rodgers allen locket

“After all this time?”


However, it’s amazing that we didn’t fail completely. The second-tier team didn’t seem to have a painful allergic reaction to pressing, creating chances and not looking like a bunch of overpaid knobs. Unlike some of our first-teamers.

We created opportunities and all seemed fine. But still, there was that one piece of shite on the birthday cake, similar to the one that completely ruined my cousin’s 9th birthday party. What I’m trying to say is, it would’ve been fucking amazing if we didn’t have Christian Benteke up front.

Some say Neymar is a “YouTube player”. Apparently, the flicks and the dribbles that he does look great on video but are useless in reality.

I disagree.

In fact, I believe that Christian Benteke is the perfect description of a “YouTube player”. Here’s why:

  • When he plays, it feels like the video is constantly buffering.
  • He changes his quality from good to acceptable to piss poor in a space of about five seconds.
  • You’d really like to use the alternatives but THERE’S NOTHING BLOODY ELSE YOU CAN DO, EH!?

But Paul, didn’t you slightly misunderstand what a “YouTube player” means?”

Oh well FUCK YOU. Christian Benteke also dribbles! He dribbles every time he gets asked to run forward to receive a pass, he dribbles all over himself as he tries to force one leg in front of the other in quicker succession than the one of the asthmatic elephant. By God, this is worse than the Imagination Christmas.

flanders pogo stick

flanders hula hoop

And I got Christian Benteke trying to grasp the concept of a football game.

I want to love him! I really do! But when the Liverpool fans start asking to play a failed Watford January transfer target instead of a 32.5 million man, you know something is absolutely wrong. Maybe it’s the price tag that ruined him for us – I wouldn’t know. But by God, he presses less than Lionel Hutz in a ferocious cross-examination and that bloody tells you something.

clarkson could be worse

Leicester. We beat them once and started congratulating ourselves in, I almost quote: “Finally stopping them from being good”. And my word, they bit us hard in the arse, passing circles around us and scoring the weekly goal of the season. Jamie Vardy suddenly remembered that this league needs a racist goal machine and the team to unleash his fury once again, it was us.

In transfer news, we have once again managed to combine hilarious and absolutely sad, which comes as no surprise to this club, given Daniel Sturridge’s injury record.

Oh, Teixeira, why did you go to China! Didn’t you think? Didn’t you like all the shitty edits with your poorly made cut-out on James Milner’s body on Instagram? Didn’t you LITERALLY do an interview with a bunch of Liverpool Twitter ITKs and confessed your love to us!? Well at least I hope you followed the chinese_babes account and screenshotted every picture of sweet and sour pork you’ve seen on your feed too! Because if not, I’ll tell you what – you ain’t a loyal girl!

Darling! Do you even know what they say? Some of the people think that you went to China because of the money! Bullshit, I tell ya! Why oh WHY did no one tell you that we are the club who pay James Milner 150k a week! You should’ve picked us!

Ah wait. He did.

We just didn’t pay.

Bummer. But I’ll tell you what. It feels kinda good. Felt nice to see a player actually plead to join us. Sure, maybe he wasn’t particularly excited by the idea playing next to Benteke. Maybe it’s just the Premier League and it’s glamour (and the FA Cup, as you get jettisoned in the air by some League 2 fullback who’s also a security guard at Tesco’s). But still. It’s nice for a change to see someone want to join us. And how Liverpool of us it was to fuck up. Many say it was Klopp’s decision to turn him down. Can only hope he’s right and our love towards the mustard-loving, pitch-invading German will actually prove to be justified…Because what we have right now from this season is just the “Welcome Teixeira” posters. And awful, awful YouTube compilations with some top-tier Slovakian techno music that plays far louder than you expected and now you’ve completely ruined this funeral reception.

welcome teixeira

“Aaaah fuck it. Too hard. Can we just welcome back Danny Igns when he comes back from injury?”

And before I finish.

One more thing.

fsg headquarters

I just want to congratulate the Liverpool owners in finding success.

Success in their fierce and dedicated mission to find new, breathtaking ways to fuck their fans over. We groan at their faces and do a little march and two. They nod their heads, smile. Make a promise or two. Just like the one where they said the ticket prices won’t be raised to pay for the new stand.

Then raise them anyway and say it’s for “the children”. Because you see, they give a ticket or two away to some nerds who go to school and have good attendance (seriously). Some ticket prices go up, some go down, some stay frozen. Apparently, that’s their plan of “not pricing the fans out”. “Young fans don’t have much money, so we will make sure they will get tickets from somewhere”. Hey, assholes. You know what wouldn’t price the fans out even more?

Not increasing the fucking ticket prices.

Sure, I understand. You need that extra money to send Ian Ayre to Florida to not buy another player.

You need that extra money to pay settlements for managers two months after they paid 32.5 million for the world’s most inefficient lawnmower.

And obviously, you need money to build a new stand – who would bring more money even without raising the prices.

I get it. Money’s important. Just say it. Say it out loud. Say you want some more cash so you can give your manager more money to burn.

Say you want to give Klopp enough money to buy the nation of Brazil before the bloody Chinese buy them all one by one by the end of the year.

Say you want to reinvest every piece of that precious revenue so you’d make even more of it and blow out some top clubs in the process. I’d pay the extra 7 quid is that meant I can watch Luis Suarez bite a black guy in the penalty area, holding the ball with his one arm and  flipping off the away fans with the other.

Say you don’t plan to play local lads because they’re shite and their names are not fancy – you’d give Jordan Rossiter a new contract worth 20 million of any currency he’d like if he was called Jerden Rosinho. Sure, some will groan. But some will understand. You job is to fuck us over just about enough so we would pay you but not too much so we wouldn’t start revolting. It’s okay – you’re a company, not our grandmothers.

Just for fuck’s sake. Stop saying that it’s all for the children. And don’t make promises you can’t fulfill. Because we sure as fuck were able to make a pun for “Emptihad”. But there’s no for Anfield. And if the empty seats will start to show, someone will come up with the idea. And oh, it’s going to be awful.

That’s about enough from me today, my parole officer is telling me to stop already.

@ me on @Kolology for your best “empty Anfield” stadium name pun. And don’t forget that flossing is just as important as brushing! (actually, this is bullshit thought up by the capitalists producing dental floss that tastes a bit like toothpaste).

See you next time.

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